


The Necklace

by outsideofme



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-24 02:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outsideofme/pseuds/outsideofme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma travels back in time to the Enchanted Forest where she meets a younger Regina, determined to change their history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Emma sat in her squad car, twisting her necklace between cold fingers. The metal was warm to the touch, and running her fingers along the circular pattern always seemed to calm her. She wasn’t nervous - she had little reason to be - but a familiar warmth spread through her as she thought about going inside. 

The windows of Mills Manor were dark as usual. She pulled her coat tighter against the cold of wintery Maine and made her way to the door. It opened as she approached, seemingly of its own accord, and Emma smiled slightly as she slipped through the doorway into the warmth beyond. 

“You came,” a voice said, a short distance to her left. 

Emma turned and tilted her head slightly. “Yes,” she stated simply, pulling off her hat and shaking her hair free. “Why is it so damn cold?”

The voice laughed, stepping closer and slowly unwinding the scarf from Emma’s neck. A warm cheek pressed against hers, and the softest of whispers reached her ear, “You would think, Miss Swan, that the cold wouldn’t bother someone so tough.”

“Maybe I’m not that tough,” she retorted. She shifted slightly, pulling a bottle from her shoulder bag. “I brought wine.”

“Delightful,” Regina answered. The mask slipped from her face and she smiled, her features softening. “There’s a fire lit in the sitting room.”

Emma turned on her heels and made her way towards the back of the house, knowing Regina would follow. Since her return to Storybrooke weeks earlier, the two had settled into a strange relationship. It was difficult for Emma to describe, but in the days after coming through the well with Mary Margaret, she had often found herself outside the imposing house, searching for something she couldn’t quite grasp. Some days, she had even approached the gate, running her fingers along the cold iron in a misplaced caress. She had felt the pull of what she thought might be the new magic coursing through her – warm and energizing. Proximity to the house seemed to make the sensation grow stronger, though perhaps that had been in her head. One day, the door had opened and Regina stood in the threshold. Their gazes had locked for a moment before Regina faded backwards into the shadows, the door left open in invitation. Emma took it. 

It had evolved from there – evenings spent in each other’s company - wine and conversation. It surprised Emma how at home she felt in this house – how comfortable and easy it was to talk to this woman who had so long been her enemy. She often thought back to the look on Regina’s face the day of her return – broken, yet hopeful, and it touched something in her. Mary Margaret and David warned her against trusting the Queen, and if they knew the amount of time she spent here, surely they would not approve. But Emma knew they were wrong.

She settled back into the warmth of the couch, hand outstretched to receive the glass of wine Regina extended to her. She took a sip and exhaled deeply. 

“Long day?” Regina inquired, folding one leg beneath herself as she sat next to Emma, close enough to feel the heat from her skin, but not yet touching.

“Not particularly,” the sheriff answered, “you?”

A short laugh escaped Regina’s throat, “Ah yes, a long day of being shut up in my own house.”

Emma looked at her imploringly. “You know the house arrest is for your own good. The townspeople are still upset and David has them up in arms. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” She laid a hand on Regina’s leg and squeezed slightly. 

“I am quite capable of taking care of myself, Sheriff Swan,” she replied dryly. She took Emma’s hand and raised it to her cheek, her eyes betraying her mock sternness. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

Emma’s thumb slowly traced the outline of Regina’s lips, pausing at her scar. “Good,” she murmured back in a low tone, drawing Regina towards her. 

Kissing Regina was something Emma had still not gotten used to. The need to be physically close to the brunette seemed to come from somewhere deep inside of her. She felt connected to her – perhaps through magic, perhaps through Henry, or perhaps through their histories - which though separate, were both colored with abandonment and loneliness. It was something they often talked about, and Emma felt that she had come to know a completely different version of Regina through her stories. She wished she could have met her in her youth – sometimes it was hard for Emma to wrap her mind around the fact that she wasn’t even alive then. 

Regina took the wine glass from Emma’s hand, setting it on the coffee table in front of them. She tugged at Emma’s hips, pulling her lengthwise on to the couch and leaning over her, never breaking contact with her lips. “You seem distracted,” she whispered against them.

Emma threaded her fingers through Regina’s hair and pulled her face slightly backwards. “I’m thinking about what you’ve told me, about growing up in the Enchanted Forest. I’d like to have known you then.”

Regina placed the briefest of kisses on her lips and sat up. “You would not have been interested in me at seventeen, believe me. All innocence and no power.”

“I think I’d have liked you innocent,” she teased with a sly grin. “And I could have taken the stable boy.”

“I -I didn’t meet him until later. I was nineteen and my parents had just moved us further south-” Her eyes took on that far away look, as they always did when she was remembering Daniel. Emma cursed herself inwardly for bringing it up. 

“Well, me at seventeen, let’s see. A tough-as-nails thief with a heart of gold.” She winked at Regina, trying to bring back some levity. 

“You still have a heart of gold,” Regina said with a smile. “But the jury’s still out on the tough.”

Emma pulled on the collar of Regina’s blazer, bringing her back down on top of her. “I’ll show you tough, Madame Mayor.” Her lips found the skin of Regina’s neck and she bit down softly. 

Regina laughed and captured Emma’s lips once more with her own. 

***

The fire had burned down considerably as Regina lay in Emma’s arms later that evening. Blazer and other random clothing discarded, her skin was warm against Emma’s stomach. Regina’s breathing had become deep and even, blowing softly against Emma’s neck and warming her chilled skin. 

Emma was awake, feeling a sense of contentment she long thought she had forgotten how to feel. Her hand slowly stroked Regina’s hair in an absentminded gesture, taking comfort in the silky strands against her fingers. 

What was she doing? She asked herself that often in the past few weeks. This woman – she had tried to destroy everything – did destroy everything. Kept her apart from her parents, then kept her son away from her. She was cunning and deceitful and meticulous. But she was different now. Emma could feel it. She was trying to change – had changed, and had let Emma see a part of her few ever had. Sometimes she wondered how long it would last – and she worried that all of this could be taken from her as quickly as it had been given. 

She wrapped her arms tighter around Regina, causing her to stir slightly. Her hand came to rest at Emma’s throat, fingers brushing the necklace warmed from the heat of their skin. Emma wondered if the brunette was dreaming – wondered what she dreamt of. Her? Or of times long past? She had spoken it to Regina earlier, half in jest – but part of her did wish she had met the younger version of her Regina. Maybe she could have spared her some pain – maybe they both could have. 

Emma rolled her eyes, ‘wine and sex make you far too sentimental,’ she thought. ‘A short time in the enchanted forest, and you’ve painted yourself as a knight in shining armor. _Her_ knight in shining armor.’

Still, they did seem to fit. Emma could still feel an energy coursing through her, and wondered if this was what Regina felt when she practiced magic. She felt aware and connected – to the town, but mostly to the woman in her arms. Maybe it was because it was Regina’s curse that gave her this power. Maybe it was because she was falling in love with her. 

Her thoughts circled endlessly in her head until she joined her lover in slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

Coffee had never tasted so good as Emma sat alone at Granny’s the next morning. The warm liquid burned her throat as she sipped it, the slightly bitter taste waking her senses. A cinnamon scone sat on a plate in front of her, and she broke off a corner and chewed it slowly. 

She had left Regina’s late last night. She rarely stayed over, through some mutual agreement that had never been spoken a loud. She wanted to, and part of her silently begged Regina for the invitation every time they whispered goodbye. But the other part of her was terrified of actually saying yes. It was best this way, she reasoned – Mary Margaret and David might start asking more questions than they already were. And Henry – well, she didn’t know what Henry would think. He was her one concern in all of this - that somehow this thing with her and Regina would end up hurting him. 

The bells above the door jingled loudly behind her, interrupting her thoughts. She shifted just in time to see Mary Margaret glide through the door, brushing the snow from her shoulders. 

‘Shit,’ thought Emma, as the woman walked towards her. She looked down at her coffee, hair falling in curtain around her face, as if that could render her invisible. A hand squeezed her shoulder slightly and Mary Margaret slipped into the booth across from her. 

“Good morning,” she said, somewhere in-between a greeting and a question. 

“Hey,” Emma responded, looking up and meeting the friendly, yet concerned eyes of her friend - or rather, mother. 

Mary Margaret rested her chin on her hands and looked at Emma thoughtfully. “You were out late last night.”

“Yeah, some trouble at the Sheriff’s office,” Emma lied. “Had to file an incident report and I lost track of time.”

Mary Margaret raised her eyebrows, saying nothing.

“Look, can we not do the overprotective mother thing right now? I’m exhausted.” Emma said, and immediately regretted her words. She was still adjusting to the two newfound parents in her life - the two newfound parents who were roughly the same age as she was. And if she was being honest, she missed her friend Mary Margaret and how easy she had been to talk to, how comforting her presence had felt. Perhaps Emma could have even told the old Mary Margaret what was happening with her and Regina, but that wasn’t an option now – the Snow White in her would be horrified. 

Emma reached out and took Mary Margaret’s hand. “I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean that. You know I’m trying – some days it’s just harder than others.” She offered her a half smile in reconciliation. 

“It’s ok,” she replied warmly. And Emma loved that she could forgive so easily. If only she would forgive Regina. “I’m gonna grab a coffee, do you need a refill?”

“Who’s the savior now?” Emma teased with a nod of her head.

“Yes, your coffee savior.” Mary Margaret laughed, hopping out of the booth. 

Emma turned back to her cup and her thoughts drifted to the previous night - to being caught up in Regina’s arms. If she closed her eyes, she could almost smell the scent of apples and cherry blossoms that clung to the queen, could almost feel the softness of her skin. Her fingers absentmindedly stroked the porcelain coffee cup beneath her fingers as she remembered. The physical part of their relationship was new to them. Or perhaps ‘newer’ was the better word – all of this was so wonderfully new – but it had not started out romantic. In fact the first few evenings they spent together had been just shy of painfully awkward. But inside both of them was a desire to move past everything and to heal. So they worked at it slowly, maybe even unknowingly, biting back insults and redirecting misplaced blame. And somewhere along the line, for Emma at least, she didn’t have to try anymore. The forgiveness was there, as natural as breathing. 

Then one evening, about a week ago, she had been later than usual getting to the manor. It had been pouring, a heavy icy rain that soaked you in seconds – almost worse than the god-forsaken snow that never seemed to stop. On the way to Regina’s, she’d gotten a flat tire and spent 30 minutes in the freezing sleet wrestling with the spare. In hindsight, she probably should have walked, but she had been feeling far too stubborn on that particular evening. She finally arrived to a pacing and very angry Regina, chastising her for being inconsiderate, for not calling, for even attempting to drive in this mess. Emma had stood in the entryway, shivering, her hair dripping from the rain, her clothing sticking to her body, and all she could do was smile. 

_“You were worried about me,"_ she had said, her eyes sparkling.

 _“You wipe that smile off your face, Miss Swan,”_ Regina had answered with venom, _“I most certainly was not.”_

Emma had tilted her head, a new resolve entering her eyes. She had strode confidently across the room and taken Regina’s face in her hands. _“I’m sorry,”_ she had whispered, before bringing their lips together. 

The kiss seemed to go on forever, Regina’s lips molding to her own, her arms wrapping around Emma’s waist with a force the blonde was not prepared for. The kiss was desperate and pleading, the product of a passion too long denied. When Regina’s mouth opened and their tongues met, it was all Emma had been able to do to choke back a sob. Her hands were in Regina’s hair, stroking the nape of her neck, running over her cheeks. When they finally pulled apart, Emma had rested her forehead against Regina’s, trying to catch her breath and refusing to let the other woman go. 

_“You and those wet clothes of yours have ruined my carpet, Miss Swan.”_ Regina had said, somewhat breathlessly, _“What do you have to say for yourself?”_

Emma had just kissed her again. 

Two steaming cups of coffee suddenly hit the table in front of her, jolting Emma from her reverie. “A penny for your thoughts?” asked Mary Margaret. 

“Ah – it’s nothing,” answered Emma.

“It’s not nothing,” Mary Margaret stated, “I know it’s not nothing. You’ve been…well, distracted these past few weeks. I’m not the only one to notice it. Your fath-” Mary Margaret stopped for a moment, “David has noticed it too.”

“Really, Mary Margaret, it’s just - ”

“It’s her,” the brunette interrupted, stopping Emma midsentence. 

Her eyes went wide for a second before she quickly masked her expression. “I don’t know who - uh what you’re talking about,” she replied, shaking her head. 

“For someone who always knows who’s lying to her, you’re pretty bad at it yourself,” Mary Margaret said gently. “I don’t know why you won’t talk to me, and I hope you change your mind. It’s…ok, you know, to be confused. I could help – I want to help. You’re my…well, you know. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

Emma took a deep breath, holding the air inside as she considered how to respond. How much did Mary Margaret actually know? That she was spending time with Regina, or that they were lovers. Thoughts twisted in Emma’s mind. She wanted to tell her, telling her would make it all seem more real. But she still feared her friend would never understand. How could she, with the history between her and the queen? If they tried to keep them apart, or if they made her choose between them - Emma was not ready to make those decisions. 

“I want – I want to talk about it. But I can’t right now. But I’m ok – I’m good – I promise. I just had to work late last night and I’m tired.” She pushed the rest of her scone towards Mary Margaret – a peace offering. “Here have this, I’m not hungry anymore. I’m gonna swing by the house so I can walk the kid to school.”

She stood up, downing the rest of her coffee and tossing on her jacket. “I’ll see you and David later, ok?”

“Of course,” replied Mary Margaret, with a slight sadness in her eyes. “He wanted to stop by the station, so we’ll be in.”

“Great,” said Emma with a forced smile. 

She walked out of Granny’s and into the biting cold, breathing it into her lungs almost grateful for the pain it caused.


End file.
